What Can You, as a Parent .....

.... as a mother, do to avoid adding to society's pressure on your child .... your daughter .... to look better than she/he does?

This has been floating through my mind quite a bit lately.  A few people have contacted me with that question.
So here are my thoughts.
I am not a professional therapist, psychologist, psychiatrist.

But .... I am a professional mother.
And happen to have a boatload of experience in not accepting myself ..... as I was.  As God made me.

For Moms:
1.  Never, ever, EVER utter ONE. SINGLE. WORD. about your daughter's weight.  Not about it being more than it should, less than it should or ..... just right.  There is only ONE exception to this rule:
2.  If your child, your daughter, expresses dissatisfaction with her weight, her appearance .... tell her ALWAYS that she is perfect the way she is.  We are not all born to be the same size, to look the same, to act the same.  She is beautiful.  Other people have probably told you that so let HER know that, too.
3.  Love your daughter, and show her that you love her, UNCONDITIONALLY.  You don't love her because she's well behaved.  You don't love her because she makes good grades.  You don't love her because she's a violin prodigy.  You love her because she's YOURS.  The way God loves us.  She canNOT make you love her less.  She canNOT make you love her more.  You.  Simply.  Love.  Her.
4.  You canNOT tell her too much how good she looks, whatever she's wearing (unless she's almost naked and then that's a WHOLE 'NOTHER issue!).
5.  Do NOT constantly talk about your body.  At all.  Don't belittle yourself, don't talk about wanting to lose weight, don't talk about plastic surgery, ...... just don't.  Talk about it to yourself in your closet with the door shut and a pillow muffling your voice, if you must.
6.  Do NOT continually go on diets.  Just in case you're not old enough to know this yet ..... diets don't work.  Forever.  If you are eating lots of crap in your house, then make a decision to eat healthier.  And call it that.  The word "diet", as a verb, should be like any other 4 letter word in your home.  It's not permitted.
7.  If your child is overweight try to do family activities that help .... like going on walks.  For instance, if your daughter says, "I really need to lose some weight." then why don't you say, "Actually, we all could be a little healthier around here.  Let's go for a walk!"  Or a bike ride, or off the playground .... whatever would be a physically healthy activity.  Don't make this your child's problem .... join her/him in being healthy.  You're not agreeing that she's overweight, your stating a fact.  We ALL do need to live more healthily.
8.  Make CERTAIN that the FATHER of your daughter tells her VERY, VERY OFTEN how beautiful she is.  Did you get that?  OFTEN!  As our daughters start to enter adolescence, fathers have a tendency to pull back, to hug less, talk less .... push away.  It's not a conscious thing .... it's more of a knee jerk reaction to their daughter starting to look, and act, like a woman ..... to her sexuality.
This is a critical time for her and she needs her father's touch, presence and love more than ever.  This is HUGELY important.  If a girl does not find love, acceptance and encouragement from her father (or another strong male family member/close friend .... for those without fathers) she WILL find it in another male.  Maybe not this year, or the next .... but she will.
9.  Try to phase the junk food slowly out of your home, if that's what you're eating/snacking on.  Always make eating healthier a family decision.
10.  It's never too late.  If you've already had words slip out of your mouth that you wish you could take back, go to your child and apologize.  Always, always apologize.  Be honest with her/him.  Let them know that this parenting thing is hard, no one gives us a manual before we leave the hospital, or take them from the adoption agency.  We don't have to pass any huge test to be a parent, unfortunately.  So admit your vulnerability to your child .... show it to them.  And tell them that you are doing the best you know how, but you can always learn more, especially if they help you and are honest and open with you.  Vulnerability is HUGE .... for everyone.  Our children find out soon enough that we aren't perfect, so it's best to admit it before they see us fall from the tall pedestal first.

And for Dads:
1.  See #8 for Moms.  And DO IT!
2.  Do each of the rest of the numbers, too .... and support your wife in this.  You are a team and together you are strong and a united front.  Together you can arm your daughter with confidence and love and support so that she can hopefully withstand the onslaught that girls receive in school, magazines, TV, movies and yes, books.  Help her see the real her every time she looks in a mirror.

So, that's all I have.  For now.  Maybe.
If anything comes to me I'll try to just add it to this post.
Or if you have any questions that you want to ask, I'll address those, too.

The bottom line?
Love your children.
Love them madly, crazily and unconditionally.
Set boundaries and expectations and then follow through when those boundaries are crossed and expectation are not met.
Unconditional love does not mean no discipline and no consequences.  It's a proven fact that children secretly like, and feel safer, with boundaries and rules (although don't go overboard in that direction, either).

I am not a perfect mother.
Not by a long shot.
But that's OK .... because there's no such thing.
I did my best.
Sometimes I failed.
Many times I failed.
But I didn't give up.
I will never give up.
Especially now that I am an only parent (as opposed to a single parent).
I don't have the luxury of giving up.
But then, no one does .... or should.

I hope this helps somebody out there.  Anybody.

Happy Sunday, Peeps.
:)

Thank You ......

.... is not enough.

I am overwhelmed.

I was stunned today when I finally turned on my computer.
Because you were here.
You had been here.
And you continued to be here for the rest of the day .... and into the night.

I have received phone calls, texts, e-mails and comments.
Too many to count.

And out of the too many to count?
Only one that I "expected".
And it did not come through this blog.

Only one person seemed to not see the words, "three years", "prayer", "God and I", "therapist", "long time", "working on it", "healing", etc.
Only one person felt the need to point out to me how much "more healing" I really had in front of me, of more things than I guess even I know of.
Only one person seemed to think this was a brand new idea for me and something that just occurred to me overnight, I suppose.
Only one person seemed negative to me, while cloaking "truth" under the veil of "friendship".

I smile at the irony.
:)

Two years ago I would not have smiled.
But I know more now.
I know that we are all human.
We are all full of faults.
We all have things from our past that we are less than proud of.
And we are all .... mostly all ..... loving, encouraging and supportive beings.

And the more we reveal our true selves to each other, the more "reachable" we become.
I.
Am.
Not.
Perfect.

But then, I wouldn't choose to be, even if I could.
Because who among us can relate to a perfect human being?
And I very much want people to be able to relate with me, to find support and understanding in me.
Because that's what I've received.

I have received it from you.
I have received it from my wonderful, amazing, loving family.
I have received it from friends from my teenage years, my young adult years and my present life.

And most of all, I have received it from my Father.
He alone knows my heart.  Even the parts I don't yet know.
He loves me, encourages me and keeps on loving me.
In spite of .... me.

He has led me here.
He has walked this path with me.
He.
Has.
Healed.
Me.
In spite of .... me.

He continues to walk with me.
He continues to lead me.
He continues to heal me.
In all kinds of ways.

He continues to encourage me.

Just the way you have today.
In spite of .... me, and us, and our .... faults.

This was not an "over night" healing.
This has taken a lot of work.
A whole lotta work.  :)
But it's the best work I've ever done.
And the hardest.

I am not brave.
I am not courageous.
I am not stronger than anyone else.
I am not .... amazing.

All I am .... is tired of living a lie.
And tired of being controlled by something that is itself .... a lie.
And ready to tell everyone .... to keep moving forward and to leave this behind.
I've worked very, very hard to get to this point .... to be this tired .... to be this ready.
To be able to tell.

God's timing is amazing.
He alone knew how long this would take.
He alone knew when I'd be ready .... to be healed ..... and then, to tell my family, my friends, and you.
He alone has been working with, and in, me .... for a long time.
He alone led me to the people who could help Him, help me.
He alone was the reason that I was able to admit how incredibly faulted I am.

I am a work in progress.
And I choose .... to progress.

And.
That.
Is.
Something.

Good night, Peeps.
And happy ...... well, that's all.
Just ..... happy.
:)

I Have Lied ....

.... for a very, very long time.
But God and I, and a therapist have been working on that since Jim died.
Well, maybe since the year after Jim died.  The year following his death I was too cloaked, suffocating and smothered in grief to lie about anything.  Or to act out the lie.

But I am done.
God and I have been through a lot to help me be done.
And He made it abundantly clear that I would not be done until I was able to tell my children.

And so I did.
Every one.
One at a time.
Face to face.

And now, it's time to tell you.
Because I have always strived to be truthful about my feelings and my grief on this blog.
But I haven't been truthful about one thing.
One thing that will surprise and shock almost everyone who knows me.
Especially my closest friends.
Especially the one who is the godmother of my children.

So before I tell you, I have to tell you that I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I have lived a lie for years.
And years.
And years.

And I'm sorry that this is the way you are finding out.
But I owed it to my children, and only my children, to tell them privately.
The thought of making 10 or twenty phone calls?  I'm sorry, but I don't have the energy to do that.
I hope you understand, and I hope you forgive me.

So here it is:
I have been bulimic since I was 21.
And I cannot believe that I just typed out those words.
I had never, ever been able to write/type them .... until recently.
Hell, I couldn't even say them until recently.
Literally.

I first confessed to someone close to me the year after Jim died.  It took an hour for this person to figure it out, because I was so ashamed of myself .... and what this friend might think .... that all I could do is cry (over the phone) and make this person play "20 questions" until they hit the nail on the head.

And the next week I told my therapist.
And that's when the healing began.
It's been a slow journey, but a mostly progressive one.
And now I know, without a doubt, that God has provided me with healing.
In a very strange way.

You see, I realized a few weeks ago that this RA, or whatever it is, was going to require more from me than anything else my body has ever dealt with.
I knew that it was going to take a lot of energy and a lot of paying attention to what my body tells me.  So much so that I just simply "let go" of the bulimia.
And, other than knowing that I had to tell each of my children, I haven't given it a moments thought in quite a while.
And.
That.
Is.
Huge.

So I see this inflammatory disease as a gift.  From God.
It was the one thing that would help me stop.  To help me accept healing.
But while I totally believe that I am healed, I also know that it's up to me to make a decision .... every single day .... to accept that healing and not to go back down that path.
I hope that that's what I'll choose.
I believe I will.
But I know better than to look too far into the future.

I know of some triggers that occurred in my life that led me to want to control my body.
I will not go into that.  I told each of my children.  I told them everything.
And now I am done.
I have been through some amazing experiences to be able to let go of those triggers, to not blame anyone for what was, in the end, my decision.

When I was 21 I had never heard of bulimia.
I had no idea that anyone else did it.
It actually started when I was 15.  I came down with a bout of stomach flu and lost quite a few pounds.
Once I was better, it occurred to me that that was an easy way to not gain weight.  And, hopefully, lose weight.
But I only messed around with it for a week or so and then I stopped.

I have considered myself to be fat, or at least over weight since I was 9 or 10.  That consideration turned into fact for me when I was around 12.  A trigger.  Words spoken.  Never to be taken back, because of course, that's not possible.
And some words have the power to burrow deep down inside of us .... and to continue to damage us for years and years and years.

I thought I was fat in college.
And one day, during a particular horrible summer, I accidentally found out that I could bend over, move my stomach muscles (which have always and still are incredibly strong) and throw up.
What could be easier than that?
I didn't think about the potential harm.
I really didn't see any harm to it.
Again, I'd never heard of it.
And so it began.
And I lost a little weight.
And people noticed.
And that felt great.

Because when you spend your life hating yourself for being overweight, getting a compliment on how good you look must be like getting hooked on cocaine.  It felt great.
I felt great.

But here's the ironic thing.
Or rather, the very, very, very sad thing.
Several years ago I got out some old photo albums.  From college, high school, middle school and earlier.
And I was stunned.
Because that little girl, that teenager, that young woman .... was not fat.
She was not even overweight.

It was like looking at pictures of a totally different person.
But I continued to look.
And then ..... I cried.
Not for me.
But for that precious little girl who ended up spending most of her life thinking she was fat.  Always believing she was overweight.
Always.
She never doubted it.

I wish I could go back in time and just hold her and hug her and tell her that she was wonderful just the way she was.
But, if I can't wish Jim back from the dead, I certainly can't go back in time.

Jim never knew.
Ever.
Of that I have no doubt.
And I have mixed feelings about that.
Sometimes it really pisses me off that he didn't know .... that he never noticed.
But mostly?  Mostly I'm glad .... and relieved.
I'm glad that he didn't have to worry about that.
Especially at the end .... if he even suspected it would be the end.

I never did it while pregnant.  Didn't have to.  After my first pregnancy I was sicker than sick during the rest.  Always lost weight because I could not keep anything down for the first 4 months.
I didn't do it while I was nursing because I had a hard enough time producing enough milk and didn't want that to make it worse.
I never let it control me as much as it had the potential to.
Don't get me wrong .... it controlled me, but not totally.

I never let "it" make a decision for me.  I never chose to not go somewhere, or eat somewhere based on whether or not I might need to throw up.
It could've been worse.  I know that.  And I'm grateful that it wasn't.

I was afraid to seek help when the kids were little because I knew that would probably mean I'd have to go into treatment and leave for a month or so.
And that .... I could not do.  I could not have left my children. Not for myself.  I would rather have died than to have that happen.
No, it doesn't make a lot of sense, unless you've been there.

The one thing that I kept foremost in my mind ..... foremost .... was to never, EVER say one single word to my children, especially to my daughters, about their bodies.  Never.
I never complained about my body in front of them.  Ever.
I never dieted.
Ever.
There was no way in hell I was going to let them go through what I went through.  And I made sure Jim never said anything.
There was one time .... I was joking with one of the girls when she was around 14 or so and I told her to suck in her stomach.  When those words came out of my mouth I was horrified.  Yes, I was joking and yes, she knew I was joking ..... but jokes can hurt just as much, or more, than serious words.
And I fell all over myself apologizing to her, letting her know that she was (and is) beautiful, her body was (and is) perfect and that I would never, ever say anything like that again.
And I haven't.

And I have always been, and continue to be, stunned at the self images all 3 daughters have of their bodies.  They think they're just right.  In fact, I dare say that they think they're more than just right.
And they are.
After I confessed to D1 she told me that she never, ever gave her body a second thought.  She never felt negative about it or thought it could be improved.
And that amazes .... and relieves me.
Very, very much.

My children have been amazingly wonderful and supportive.  I expected disappointment, resentment, anger.
I was wrong.
All I received from them was unconditional love, support, acceptance and gratitude.  For telling them.
And we shared some tears.
I was also amazed at how easy it was to tell them.  How easy it is to say now.
It was time.
And once I knew that, I wasn't paralyzed at the thought of telling someone.
I cannot describe how light that feels.

I told each of my children that I was going to blog about it.  I told them that I wanted to be a lot more honest than I had professed to be.
And I wanted to let other women (or men) know ..... that not only in grief .... are they not alone.
Because I know now, I'm not the only one.
And if I can put it out here .... for all of you to see, not knowing what to expect in return, what reactions I'll receive .... and yet not be afraid of what may come, then maybe I'll be of some help to someone else.
Maybe.

Only one child expressed discouragement at my putting it out here.
Not because of how he feels about it.
But because he fears what some people may say.  He's afraid for me.
He doesn't want anyone to hurt me with negative words, accusations or expressed disappointment.  I love him.
I told him that I am strong enough to handle that.
But ..... my children are not.

So if there are any hurtful thoughts running through anyone's head, please don't post them.  Not for me.
But for my kids.  I will delete them anyway.  For my kids.

So there you have it.
Complete and utter honesty.
A year ago I could not have written this.
I could not have typed the word "bulimia".
And now, it comes freely.
No pain.  No fear.
Nothing but relief.
And happiness.
And freedom.

Again, to all of my closest friends ... I'm sorry.
You can't imagine how sorry I am.
And I hope that you don't think as badly of me as I expect you to.
But please know that you can ask me anything .... about this, or whatever.
And I will answer.

And that applies to each of you Peeps who only know me through my blog.
Some of you know me very, very well.
Most of you have grieved with me for a long time.
All of you have cheered me on and encouraged me.
I hope that you continue to do so, even if you feel disappointed.

I cannot believe that I'm here .... at this point .... getting ready to click "Publish Post" and that my heart isn't beating 120 beats a minute.
This is, to me, nothing short of a miracle.

Thank you to my constantly-amazing children.
Who love me unconditionally.
And always have.

And thank you .... all of you, for all that you've done for me over the past 3+ years.  You will never, ever know how much you mean to me.  Yes, even you lurkers.
I love you, appreciate you, and know that I am still here .... because of you.

And.
That.
Is.
Huge.

Happy Thursday, Peeps.
I hope you're still here tomorrow.
:)